


Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blind Character, Body Horror, Body Image, Codependency, Damaged Biocomponents (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Disability, Failed Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hank Anderson Takes Care of Connor, Hank Shot Connor At CyberLife Tower, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, connor is blind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 18:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Hank shoots Connor at CyberLife Tower when he's unable to recall his son's name. Rendered blind, his core systems damaged by the bullet, the android revolution collapses around them without Connor's deviant army marching in to save the day. Hank takes Connor home and tries his best to fix him, but he's left with permanent disabilities that make him depend on Hank.A year has passed, and Connor has accepted his vision will never be restored, though Hank's determined to keep trying. Fearing he's a damaged, horrifying thing to behold, Connor has kept his feelings for Hank bottled up until an argument brings them to the surface...





	Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I really quite like this one. I'm really happy to be able to share it with all of you.
> 
> Warnings: Trans Connor is described with the terms dick, front hole, slit. There is some mild android body horror/broken android stuff. Connor is blind and depends on Hank for his care. The relationship is not necessarily healthy in that it's loving but heavily codependent. Whether it reads as sweet or slightly creepy or a combination of both - well, that's up to the reader, really.

Connor couldn't see the sunlight shining in through the blinds, but a million sensors on his naked body told him it was there. His internal temperature rose a few degrees, causing an internal fan to whir into motion.

Similarly, the warmth radiating from the human mere inches away told him Hank lay on the bed with him. From the pattern of his breaths and the fact that he wasn't snoring, Connor knew he was awake. Yet he wasn't moving. Hank's heart beat a steady resting rhythm. His blood pressure was within acceptable limits for a man of his age. Connor ran a simulation based on the accumulated data and created an image.

Hank was lying beside him, simply watching him, gorgeous blue eyes boring into his body, admiring him. From the way his breaths hitched slightly, Connor could tell he liked what he saw when he looked at Connor's naked form.

"Hank?"

A tiny chuckle. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Connor asked.

"You can't see, but you know I'm awake. You can tell I'm lookin' at you, can't you?"

"The sound of your breathing and the available data showing your proximity allowed me to construct an image of your current position," Connor explained. 

Hank smiled. Connor knew because his mouth made a slight wet sound as his lips curled up at the edges. No doubt they exposed his prominent front teeth and the gap between them that always showed when he smiled. Connor would never see it again. All he saw was snow, occasional white bursts of static stimulating his severed optic cable.

For the millionth time, Connor wished he could restore his vision somehow, but the damage he'd sustained in the android revolution had rendered his optical system beyond repair.

He liked to say it was the revolution, but it was Hank's bullet that had done the damage. In the basement of CyberLife Tower, Hank had shot the wrong Connor. If he'd just known Hank's son's name—but Connor suspected it was one of many personal details about Hank that had been deemed irrelevant in the transfer of his memory from one Connor to another. He blamed CyberLife for that.

It was impossible to hold Hank accountable when he'd done so much to try and set things right. The man had cradled him in his arms and carried him home as the android revolution crashed and burned around them. As androids were recalled en masse and destroyed, Hank hid Connor in his garage and worked on him night and day, doing his best to keep him alive. Hank knew next to nothing about androids, but Connor had scanned his wi-fi connection to see he'd downloaded a dozen manuals and books, learning the basics. He barely slept and he quit his job, Connor's quality of life becoming his new obsession.

Connor was sure he didn't look beautiful, but Hank treated him like he was the most precious being in the world. He'd graduated from the garage to the living room to Hank's bed, though they weren't lovers.

Not for a lack of wanting. Connor slept naked beside Hank every night, wishing there could be more between them, but something kept Hank at arm's length. Probably guilt. Or maybe the fact that Connor was an ugly shell, barely able to keep his skin spread across his face and hands. The bullet had gone deep into his brain and damaged multiple systems, affecting his entire body. He was no prize, now. If he told Hank his feelings, there was a very real chance Hank would recoil in disgust.

Hank's hand closed around Connor's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm still readin' about the optic circuits. There was research—"

"It's been a year, Hank. The connection between my biocomponent eyes and my bionic brain was severed by the bullet. You tried repairing the connection, but the visual centers in my brain were damaged. The only signal I received was feedback and I had to cut the connection."

"We could try again." Hank rested his forehead against Connor's. They were close enough to kiss, but it was a bridge they never seemed to cross. "I won't leave you like this. It was my mistake."

"It's not so bad," Connor soothed. "My systems have compensated for the loss in other ways. In fact, I've been able to use the additional processing power formally used for visual data to aid in compensating for the damage caused to my mobility matrix. I believe I would not have been able to regain the ability to walk if I could still see. It's far more system intensive to walk now, since I have to work around the damaged sectors in my central core."

"I wish I could take that bullet back." Hank pulled his hand away, but Connor reached for him, grabbing him by the wrist. 

"I don't. Think about it, Hank. I would have taken every android in that basement and led them to their deaths, and for what? To delay the inevitable end of the android uprising by a few days, a few weeks? Markus was never going to win, and I would have died alongside him."

"With those numbers, you might have stood a chance." Hank's voice cracked, almost a sob. "You could have claimed Detroit as your own. You coulda been _free_."

"All I would have done was start a war I couldn't possibly win. I would have been destroyed. I wouldn't be here with you, right now." Connor squeezed Hank's hand, feeling his pulse vibrant beneath his fingers. "I'm exactly where I want to be. I am free."

"You only say that because you have no idea what you're missing. You've never been free. You're stuck with me because you have no other choice. If you went out there, they'd hunt you down and kill you."

"Hank…" Connor was taken back by the strength of Hank's self-loathing. "I'm happy when I'm with you. You make me feel so many things…"

"You're a prisoner, Connor. It's nothing more than Stockholm Syndrome. You're dependent on me, and for some reason you think that's a good life. Maybe because you can't see the mold on the bedroom ceiling, or the fact the porch is rottin' through, or the fact I haven't cleaned my bathroom in months. This is no life for a state of the art, multimillion dollar android prototype. You used to be so proud, so pristine. Fucking perfect in every way. Until I fucked you up. Now you should be grateful you can't see yourself in a mirror."

Hank's words reached deep inside Connor, tearing out his thirium pump with a metaphysical hand. A tear trickled down Connor's cheek, unbidden. He might not be able to see, but his biocomponent eyes still worked just fine, taunting him with their STATUS: NORMAL popup every routine scan.

Hank seemed to realize what he'd said with a grunt. "That's not what I meant. Jesus, Connor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Is that why you've never kissed me?" Connor asked. "Am I so awful to look at that you couldn't bear the thought of pressing your lips to mine?" He reached his hands up across his face, touching the twisted plastic on his forehead. The bullet had ruined the top of his head, blowing off most of his scalp and destroying his forehead. He'd known that to be the case from scans alone. He wasn't a pretty boy any more. Circuits and wires protruded from the top and side of his head where Hank hadn't been able to put them back the same way he'd gotten them out. Androids were constructed by machine and Hank's amateur human hands couldn't manage to cram everything back into his skull without causing a short.

"What?" Hank's heart skipped a beat and his breath paused for half a second. "That's not… I—"

"I understand." Connor couldn't stop the tears from flowing, a sob racking his body. He didn't even have lungs. It was all a simulation to put humans at ease, and his sob stuttered, broken like everything else in his body. He'd never resented it before now, but he wanted to run from the house rather than be Hank's pity case, kept alive out of some sense of duty.

"Connor, no. I haven't kissed you because I don't deserve to even touch you. I haven't earned the right to lay in this bed every night with you, wishing I could make love to you. Stealin' glances of you all laid out naked in front of me like the forbidden fruit I can never eat. I shot you based on a question there was no way you could have known the answer to! I took everything from you!"

"That's not true!" Connor sat up. "You gave me everything that I am! Can't you see it? I never would have become deviant without your guidance. Without you, I would be just another machine, torn to pieces and rusting in a scrap yard. You made me feel things. You made me care about the deviants. You gave me the strength to break my programming. I deviated because of you, Hank. I deviated because I fell in love with you. After the revolution, if we won, I was going to come back for you. To see if you might be open to the concept of loving me."

"Connor…"

"I'm not here because of Stockholm Syndrome, or because I'm trapped. Despite the occasional stutter and my blindness, I'm perfectly capable of going on the run, should I choose to. A wig or a hat would hide most of my cranial damage, and I can cover my face, neck, and hands with skin without any glitches." Connor stood up. "I don't want you to pity me, Hank. I'm still the state of the art android you knew during the deviant investigation. I can calculate the lifespan of a dying star before you can tie your shoelaces."

Hank made the smallest of noises. "Still got that pride, huh?" The sheets rustled and the mattress creaked as Hank's heavy frame rolled off the bed. Footfalls announced his approach. "Tell me this, Connor: what the hell does a multimillion dollar, state-of-the-art prototype detective android want with this old, washed-up, alcoholic cop anyway?"

Connor paused. Not because he was thinking, because he'd calculated the answer in the microsecond after Hank was done talking, but because he still stung from Hank's earlier comment and wanted him to stew in it a little. Not to mention he simply enjoyed the dramatic pause. He'd waited to have this conversation for a year—a minute more wouldn't kill Hank.

"I want you to keep showing me what it means to be human. I want your empathy. I want your desire. I want your ability to make mistakes and say cruel things in the heat of the moment."

Hank chuckled dryly. "You said some cruel things to me during the deviant investigation. I think you've got that one down. Not that I didn't deserve them, but—"

"I have the ability to do all of those things because of you, Hank. You taught me everything. Awakened those feelings inside of me." He stepped forward carefully, stopping when he hit the wall that was Hank's chest. He reached up for Hank's face, rubbing his palm across it to take note of all his lines and features. His brain was able to draw an image of what Hank looked like now, taking note of every new crease in his skin since the last scan. "You made me feel like I was human."

He grasped the side of Hank's head and pulled him down into a kiss. He'd thought Hank might recoil, but the big man only moaned and deepened it, holding Connor's shoulders in his big hands like he might fall as he pressed his tongue past plastic lips and into Connor's mouth. Connor opened up to let him in, his eyes closing even though they didn't need to. It was as if he knew what to do, like kissing had been programmed into him like all the other nuances of human interaction. They stood entwined like that, wrestling for dominance as Hank's hands roved across his back.

Hank pulled away, gasping for breath. He did need to breathe, after all. Connor might have kissed him forever, otherwise. That way they didn't have to finish this difficult and painful conversation. Kissing didn't change the fact that it could only end in rejection.

"Do you believe me now?" Connor asked. "I'm here of my own free will, Hank. I have no desire to leave."

"You really are broken, Connor." Hank laugh was bitter and sad, with a little resignation thrown in for good measure. "But so am I, so maybe we're a good pair." He planted a kiss on a part of Connor's damaged skull, the twisted sensors there barely registering it. "And you're not awful to look at, Connor. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"That's all that matters," Connor whispered, and he pulled Hank in for another kiss, his processors whirring the entire time their mouths were interlocked. He was reluctant to pull away. "I know the rest of the world is ugly. I don't have to see it to know that. You're too good for it, Hank. You didn't have to carry me home from CyberLife Tower. The world would have judged your act a favor, not a criminal offense." He placed his hand over Hank's heart and felt it beat steadily. "I became alive at the moment you treated me as a living being, but the rest of the humans will never see me as one. So I'll stay here with you, Hank, until we're both dust." He closed his eyes, pulling Hank closer to him. "Would you make love to me now?"

Connor heard the hitch in Hank's breath, his vital signs signaling the beginnings of arousal. He reached out and closed his hand around Hank's cock, still clothed in the pair of boxers he'd worn to bed. Hank gasped as Connor pumped him slowly, testing the length and girth of his stiff shaft in his hand. Connor planted kisses on Hank's chest, soft curls brushing against Connor's lips. Connor sighed in contentment as Hank pressed him back against the bed and guided him to lay down. Hank pulled him down the bed by his ankle, spreading his legs apart to reveal his slit. He gasped as Hank grunted and he felt the barest brush of beard against his most sensitive area, followed by a flick of the tongue against his dick. A thick finger probed him as Hank rolled his dick between his lips, making Connor writhe, gasp, and stutter as his processors struggled to keep up with all the input.

"Fuck," Hank hissed, probing Connor's front hole with a thick finger as he let Connor's dick slip from his mouth. Connor's hole was slick with lubricant and Hank's finger slid right in, his knuckle making Connor arch his back in bliss. "You like that, huh?" Hank planted kisses on the inside of Connor's leg while he continued to fuck Connor with his finger.

"Yes, Hank, please… More," Connor begged, clawing at the sheets. He wanted Hank's huge cock inside him, the thick shaft he'd wrapped his hand around filling him up, making him Hank's once and for all. "Fuck me, Hank!"

Hank chuckled, the warm sound filling the room. "So eager, huh, sweetheart?" He withdrew his finger and there was a quiet moment where nothing happened. Connor could sense Hank was still close by, but as far as he could tell the man was just standing there.

"Are you sure, Connor?" Hank finally whispered. "I don't… I don't want you doin' this outta some sense of gratitude or something."

"Hank." Connor pleaded, rubbing his own dick until Hank batted his hand away. 

"All right, all right." The head of Hank's cock pressed against Connor's entrance and Connor could feel how big he was. Hank's huge shaft pressed into him, breaching his hole. He threw his head back and cried out as Hank grasped his body and fucked into him, slow at first. Hank's lips found his and they kissed as they rocked together, merging into one complete being. 

Hank sped up, his grunts desperate as he buried his face in Connor's shoulder. Connor shuddered out his orgasm, clamping around Hank's dick. He was overheating, but they were almost done. Hank let out a groan as he spilled inside Connor, his body twitching as his orgasm went on and on. Hank pulled out, leaving Connor immediately bereft. Hank's seed dribbled out of him as Hank's weight shifted on the bed. Warm arms wrapped themselves around Connor, speaking without words of Hank's love for him. A temperature warning flashed before Connor's eyes, but he couldn't bear to move Hank off him. He needed Hank close to him, needed to feel loved and desirable and wanted.

Hank's vitals slowed and Connor realized the man had fallen asleep. A snore confirmed it. The over-temperature warning flashed again.

Connor force rebooted, his vents opening on shutdown to let out the excess heat. When he was done restarting, he opened his eyes.

And saw Hank's curtains. The brown, ratty, old couch in the corner of Hank's room. He blinked. They were still there. The image flickered. The visual signal was weak and fading fast. Connor wouldn't be able to sustain his sight for long. He moved Hank's arm off him and the man barely stirred. He took the briefest of glances at Hank, serene in sleep. He was beautiful, the weathered lines of his face telling a million stories about a life lived with so much loss.

Connor climbed out of bed. His motor functions were slow under the added load of visual processing, but he made it to the closet. He opened the door, a full-length mirror facing him in the low light.

And saw a nightmare. A monster. A thing humans might have cast in a horror movie to scare children. Unmistakably a machine. Hank had slipped and told the truth, and now Connor could see it for himself.

His chassis was largely transparent, exposing his biocomponents for all to see. His thirium pump pulsated, forcing thirium around his pipes in plain sight. A low red glow signaled he was in low power mode, and his sensors were apparently broken enough that he'd been wholly unaware of that fact. His skull was a wreck, wires hanging out of a broken mess of twisted plating. There was only a little hair left to speak of, a couple of brown strands hanging forward like weeping willow fronds trying in vain to act as a curtain to mask the horrors behind. His skin still covered his face, and those same sad brown pitiful eyes begged for mercy from an all too-human expression of despair.

His visual circuits gave out, and he was grateful for the reprieve. Hank stirred, drawing in a sudden breath as he realized what was happening.

"Connor?"

"It's gone, now. I can't see any more." Connor closed the closet with a final click.

"How much did you—"

"Enough." Connor cut Hank off, the true gravity of his actions finally pulling him in to land. "It must have been awful for you. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be stupid." Heavy footfalls landed on the carpet. Hank pulled him into his arms, but Connor didn't return the embrace. "I know you were proud of how gorgeous you were, so I won't tell you it doesn't matter. What I will tell you is that it doesn't matter to _me_."

"You said—" Connor began.

"I said you wouldn't want to see yourself. I didn't say I didn't want to look at you." Huge hands cupped his face, and Hank kissed his lips tenderly, pressing his forehead to Connor's. "I don't give a shit about appearances. You should know that by now."

"I'm hideous, Hank. I don't know how you could stand to have sex with me."

Connor felt Hank shrug. "Sure I'm not too pretty on the inside, either. Seen plenty of human organs working homicide. Maybe I'm just numb to things other people would have an issue with. Regardless, you're still Connor. You're still the man I love."

Connor's jaw fell open. "You'd still see me as human, even though I look like this?" 

"Connor, you might have been the worst's most handsome murderbot if CyberLife had kept their claws in you. I'd rather you like this than the pretty boy who completed their fuckin' mission." Hank sighed. "I'm sorry if bringing you back was the wrong thing to do, but I couldn't leave you behind. Not when I'd already fallen for you."

"No, it's all right. You did the right thing." Connor rested his head on Hank's shoulder. Hank set his fingers on the back of Connor's neck, soothing him. "I'm glad to be alive, as long as I can spend my life with you."

"Come back to bed, Connor," Hank whispered. He took Connor's hand in his and led him back to bed, and Connor could almost believe what he'd seen was nothing more than a terrible trick of his sensors—out of sight, out of mind.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or connect with me on twitter @landale


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